


Angele Dei

by sunshinestealer



Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 5
Genre: Angels, Fallen Angels, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-04 02:29:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14582943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshinestealer/pseuds/sunshinestealer
Summary: Joseph and his siblings are fallen angels, looking to save humanity before the Collapse.





	Angele Dei

**_14_ _Are not all angels ministering spirits sent to serve those who will inherit salvation?_ **

Hebrews 1:14, NIV.

* * *

 Whoever said angels were peaceful beings of light had clearly never stood before one.

Or, they had never read too much into theology.

Rook stood in the latter category, frozen on the spot by Joseph Seed’s piercing gaze. He offered his scarred wrists up, not even looking back at his family members. Or to his congregation.

Just straight at Rook, searching their soul.

Jacob had that ever-present sneer on his face, the look of a man who has seen horrific sights in combat and can never pretend to be a civilian again. John and Faith both offer easy smiles, the kind that hides a serpent’s tongue.

“Sometimes,” the Father begins, “it is best to just walk away.”

Rook hesitates for a moment, almost passing the cuffs onto Pratt or the Marshall. Sheriff Whitehorse would probably have the same doubts, be just as eager to turn back and not lay the law down on the cult who have dominion over the whole of Hope County.

“Be not afraid,” Joseph breathes, never once breaking eye contact. The gaze is hypnotising, benevolent. Stare into the holy fire burning in Joseph long enough and you will hear the ambient choral sounds of Heaven, the flutter of angels’ wings.

Rook’s higher self pleads with them to realise that this is just a man. A man like many others they have arrested in the past, who has manipulated and abused other human beings. He is not an angel. There is no halo or circlet of thorns crowning his head. ( _But just what is that ethereal glow?_ ) His power comes from all the people he has convinced he will lead to Salvation. They are many. They are legion.

It’s easy to ignore how the Sheriff snaps at them. “Put the cuffs on _now_.” Then a more direct threat, that Rook is disobeying their orders. Then a turn towards the Federal Marshall, who now seems equally hesitant, having been caught in the gaze of Faith Seed, like a rabbit in headlights.

For a small second, John’s smile falters into a smirk. He has seen people doubt the Father before. It doesn’t last long. Joseph’s fervour and charisma has to be seen to believed. He knows that there are outsiders, who film the sermons to share among their fellow godless heathens somewhere on the Internet. They’ll be up in flames soon enough.

Even Joseph notices Rook looking to John, a kind smile playing on his features. “You are blessed.” The Father whispers, almost without moving his lips at all. Rook has to wonder whether he even spoke aloud at all – the thought just seemed to appear in their head, all of a sudden.

Without noticing, Rook is left with the Father. The Federal Marshall has reluctantly followed the Sheriff’s lead. Pratt is also stood there, transfixed. Whitehorse is an old man, who knows when to leave well enough alone. There are many things he’s seen over his time, some which are totally unexplainable. This is one of them. The Marshall’s mind is ruled by logic and protocol – he has ruled in his mind that they will head to the National Guard and bring the wrath of Hell upon this congregation. But the Project will not fail. It is God’s will.

“Welcome to our Family,” Joseph breathes, almost ecstatic. Rook’s throat bobs, as they let out a breath they didn’t realise they were holding.

Pratt staggers, almost, when Joseph looks towards him. Jacob is stood behind him, arms folded and eyes sharp. He has already marked the man for himself, to craft like clay into a devout follower of the Word.

Both Rook and Pratt have wet tracks on their face, where tears have fallen down, without them noticing.

Joseph, John and Jacob have lain dormant for far too long. Their wings are battered and bruised from the fall, haloes considerably dimmed, but they picked the right time to come out of hibernation. Mankind is warring with one another, dividing each other by boundaries, languages and creed, among many other things. Now is their chance to return to the side of the also dormant Creator. Surely, they will be thanked for saving humanity, with a full pardon. Both John and Joseph fell for multiple cardinal sins. Jacob was perhaps too righteous in cleansing the battlefields with holy fire. But there is now a reckoning, and if the vast majority of humanity is to perish, then they will carefully pick those who are best suited to survive the coming tribulations.

The two officers are young, perfectly malleable minds. Joseph’s caress feels like a soft touch of sunshine, as he strokes under the Deputy’s chin in an awkward, but affectionate gesture. “You will need to be cleansed by John,” he explains. “But it is nothing to fear.”

 _You have every right to be afraid,_ Rook’s higher self warns.

Such a thought is easily cast aside, however.

Rooks falls to their knees, almost trembling before the family.

Joseph looks down, triumphant yet at total peace.

“We will begin the reaping shortly,” he assures his siblings. “But for now… we have a baptism and atonement to administer.”


End file.
